


A Destiny Foretold

by QueenofCamelot



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Humor, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-04
Updated: 2015-02-04
Packaged: 2018-03-10 11:38:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3288980
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenofCamelot/pseuds/QueenofCamelot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur attempts to rescue a damsel from a tower. He finds Merlin instead.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Destiny Foretold

“Who in the bloody hell are you?”

It had taken Arthur three torturous days to reach this castle, braving the worst of conditions and fighting all manner of beast in order to free a mysterious princess from her entrapment. Little did he expect to find a scruffy-haired boy scarcely older than him lounging on a colossal four-poster bed surely meant for the princess.

Maybe he had the wrong castle.

_It damn well better not be_ , Arthur grumbled internally. That would mean yet another few days camping out in the middle of no-where with little food and even less patience.

The boy in question put aside the dusty tome he was reading and gave Arthur a scathing look. “Not another one. Kilgharrah, why did you let this one through?”

Arthur spluttered, “my name is Arthur Pendragon, heir to the throne of Camelot, not this… Kilgharrah or whatever you just called me.”

“Oh I know,” he said coolly, blue eyes narrowing. “Now tell me exactly what you’re doing here or I will push you out the window myself.” His eyes flickered to said window in warning.

Arthur laughed. The boy looked barely capable of swatting a fly let alone pushing him, a knight, a man of muscle and ultimate strength, to his peril, with his slender body and sharp features.

Now that he thought about it, those were rather attractive features… _focus Arthur, you’ve got to find the princess…there are plenty of pretty boys in Camelot…less annoying ones too…_

The boy glared at him, and Arthur decided to humour him, if only to move things along more quickly. Home seemed a far away prospect at this point in time. “I’m here to rescue a princess, as most gallant knights storming abandoned castles do. Only she doesn’t appear to be here. Care to explain that…?”

“Merlin,” he replied tersely.

“Right, Merlin. Well you don’t have her stowed away somewhere, do you? Or…god forbid, please don’t tell me you’re trying to rescue her yourself. Leave it to the knights who actually know what they’re doing. Go marry a peasant girl instead.”

Merlin rolled his eyes. “Yes, I hid her behind the curtain.”

Arthur searched the room intently and then gritted his teeth. The boy meant to make a fool of him. “There is no curtain.”

“Exactly.”

“Don’t play games with me, where is she?” Arthur took a step forward in warning. He didn’t want to hurt the insubordinate boy, but his patience was wearing thin.

“There is no princess.”

“Of course there is,” Arthur protested incredulously. “Half of Camelot has been raving about her all year. Do you presume to tell me that every knight having claimed to have seen a beautiful maiden and the infamous beast that guards this castle was lying?”

Merlin shrugged. “Well, sorry to disappoint you, sire but no princess lives here. I’d know, considering it’s my bloody castle. It’s probably my sister they saw who, although undeniably lovely, is definitely not a princess.”

“Your sister…” he trailed off, face flushed. “Well, lead me to her then. I need to take her back to my kingdom, princess or not.”

“Are you kidding me? You can’t just take her with you,” Merlin got to his feet, fists clenched into tight balls.

“I’m terribly sorry, but I have to. To ascend the throne it is necessary I succeed in a quest of my choosing. I chose to rescue the princess trapped in this castle. Hence, I have no choice but to return with her.”

His words were contrite given their veracity, but Merlin didn’t appear to have grasped their meaning.

He snorted, shaking his head. “No, definitely not. My sister is not a trophy for you to take home. Besides no matter what I agree to, she’d never let you. You’d be on your arse in seconds.”

“Wrong, she’d be overwhelmed by my good looks and come along willingly. Regardless of her feelings towards me, you cannot deny she would have a much better life in Camelot than here in this rubble.” Arthur looked around distastefully.

The room truly was dreadful with its thick coating of dust, in addition to furniture even his dead grandfather would deem old.

“I think I know my own sister. Besides all this ‘rubble’ is just an enchantment you’re too blind to overcome. Now go, you interrupted me at a really good part of my book.” His eyes swept to the door meaningfully.

“Excuse me, but I’m not going anywhere,” Arthur replied, outraged. How dare this idiot insulate he was blind – he knew ruin when he saw it. “Not until I have what I came for, or a substitute if necessary. If you’re not careful, I’ll order my mother to arrest you when I return to Camelot for insubordination. What are you anyway, a peasant?”

“Oh, I don’t believe in class.”

“Don’t believe in…” Honestly, Arthur shouldn’t have been surprised. “You don’t make the rules.”

“And you do?”

He raised his head proudly. “Actually, as heir to the throne, I will have the power to create laws one day.”

“What a good king you’ll be,” he said dryly. “You have no idea how thankful I am this castle is a part of Essetir, not Camelot.”

Arthur gasped. “How dare you imply otherwise! Now show me to your sister.”

“I didn’t really want to resort to this, but…Kilgharrah,” the boy sighed, looking directly at the door Arthur had come through earlier.

“I told you, that’s not my…” he trailed off as a giant scaly beast scampered into the room, steam blowing out of its massive nostrils, the intensity of which causing him to engage in a coughing fit. He had his sword out in seconds, waving it threateningly in the creature’s direction, his heart hammering in fear, which he hid with a grim smile.

“Ah, dragon we meet at last. Now I may vanquish you as all the other knights have failed to do.”

The dragon snorted, and to Arthur’s astonishment began speaking in the same tongue. “I think not. Your blade is useless against me.”

“Kilgharrah why did you let this one in? He’s very annoying.”

Suddenly grasping who Kilgharrah was, he turned to look at the beast who if possible smirked at the boy, talons curling as a he pointed at Arthur.

Arthur would be lying if he claimed he wasn’t sweating profusely. He’d definitely have to change his tunic on the journey back to Camelot.

“Why Merlin, because he’s your destiny.”

At the dragon’s proclamation, Merlin and Arthur both descended into a laughing fit, Arthur backing away with his hand covering his mouth in an effort to stop. Merlin, face reminiscent of a cherry, was the first to sober up after pointedly looking away from Arthur, saying, “destiny…yeah right. You should’ve heard the utter prat, wanting to take Morgana away.”

“Oh, I heard it all.”

“Then why didn’t you interrupt?” Merlin exclaimed, hands flying in the air in exasperation.

“It was very entertaining.”

“Don’t forget I have the power to send you to the Isles if I wished. Not that I ever would. I can always magic the idiot away if you don’t get rid of him soon.”

“You’re a dragonlord,” Arthur breathed, astonished.

The realisation caused him to look at the boy in a different light. Not just the approaching light of dawn escaping through the window, mind you, but more with a grudging respect he hadn’t thought fit to bestow earlier.

Dragonlords’ were revered in the five kingdoms, holding the same status as nobles. They could bind a dragon to their will with a few mere words and many, if not all could do magic. It was common for noblemen to hire them as protectors against foes, particularly if it were dragons who plagued their lands. There weren’t that many left as the skill was one inherited, so to find one was a rare case indeed.

Arthur, since his childhood, had always been fascinated by magic. His mother, having a brother who was a sorcerer, had often told him stories of it, the good and the bad, the beautiful and the twisted, and it’d been a dream of his to meet a sorcerer who could showcase their talents for him. He’d seen magic from afar of course, but only to utilise boring tasks such as growing crops. He wanted to see it create things…transform objects…save people from death…of course he wouldn’t admit this to anyone, it was unseemly for the prince of Camelot to desire such things, but it didn’t change the fact that he did.

Too bad the first person he met who possessed it then was a right moron who couldn’t take orders or refused to understand the sanctity of his quest.

Merlin turned to face him, wary. “Yes, why do you care, oh high and mighty prince?”

“I don’t,” Arthur tried to say haughtily. “Peasant, dragonlord. It makes no difference to me. You still won’t give me what I want.”

“And I never will. See, Kilgharrah, how can he possibly be my destiny of all things? I think you have the wrong prince.”

The dragon laughed, and Arthur to his own irritation jumped. “No, this is the prince we’ve have been waiting for.”

“Waiting for? I just want to take the princess and go. I don’t owe either of you anything.”

Both ignored him, Merlin instead speaking in a harsh guttural tone to the dragon, which the dragon replied to in turn. Arthur’s head whipped between them, completely bewildered by the strange language they uttered.

“Svabolen igsit re wux tekimekilir ekess?” – _Which prophesy are you referring to?_

_You must go with him, Merlin. It is prophesised that his mother, the queen, will die of a magic aliment. Hence if the prince is not exposed to the good elements of magic, he will grow to despise it and as a result ban it, caging our kind forever._

_How can you be sure this will come to pass? I don’t want to go with him; I love it here. Please don’t make me leave my home._

_I am sorry young warlock, but you must. See the image I see._

Merlin winced, his eyes filling with tears as they bore witness to pyre after pyre of burning bodies – sorcerers – of every dragon in the land being slain – of an unstable kingdom – of war…

Arthur looked at him strangely, confused at the sudden pain on his face, and felt some of his own frustration ebb away at the intensity of it. No one, no matter how defiant, deserved to wear pain in that fashion.

_What must I do? You’ve always told me I have a great destiny, but I never imagined it would be quite like this._

_As I said, you must go with him to Camelot and befriend him. He will take you back to his kingdom, claiming he rescued you from this castle and you must find a reason to stay. You must show him the benefits of magic otherwise all will be lost._

He shook his head.

_Kilgharrah, it’s impossible. He’s an absolute prat. There’s no way we can be friends. Is there not another way I can save magic? Something that requires my powers, perhaps?_

_Befriending him is the only way he will trust magic when his mother dies. You have a year to complete this task otherwise the disaster I have shown you will unfold._

_Why didn’t you warn me of this?_

His eyes stung with betrayal as he glared at his scaly friend.

_Preparation would not have helped. It would only make you more resistant.”_

_What about Morgana?_

_Her destiny is yet to unfold. She will join you in Camelot one day, but until then, you must face this task alone. It will be difficult enough ensuring you are offered a place in the caste, let alone her too._

_Why is this not Morgana’s destiny then? She could pretend to be the princess. The queen would be more likely to let her stay than I; it would be perfect. A princess is of higher rank than a dragonlord, as you well know.”_

_It is not her destiny. It is yours._

“I’m sorry to interrupt this…conversation you’re having,” Arthur cut in, sick of being rendered clueless. “But I’d really like to be on my way so if you could please show me to the princess it would be much appreciated.”

“When will you grasp it in your thick skull that my sister is not going with you.” Merlin glared at him. “I have an alternative, in fact.”

The dragon nodded approvingly.

“Oh really?” Arthur drawled.

“I will go with you.”

Arthur laughed. “I think not. I said I’d bring back a princess not a bloody dragonlord.”

“Well its either me or nothing. Tell the queen there was no princess and you brought back me instead. Its technically the truth.”

“I can’t just do that!” Arthur protested.

“What choice do you have?”

Arthur thought it over for a second, before realising to his irritation, that the boy was right.

He had to succeed in his quest; there was no question about that. It didn’t matter how, just as long as he did.

His people would view him as a failure otherwise and his mother would be severely disappointed.

“Fine,” he grumbled. “Just…try not to be too annoying.”

“Oh I’ll try my best if you will. Now let me pack my things and then we’ll be off. Just… don’t touch anything.”

“What can you possibly have to pack? You live in an abandoned castle!”

“It’s not abandoned if someone lives in it,” Merlin reminded him, reaching over to retrieve his book from the bed.

“The ride home is going to be absolute torture.”

“Trust me, I know.”

“What about the dragon?” Arthur asked.

“What about him?”

“I need to slay him.”

“No you don’t. Was that a requirement of the task?”

“Well no, but it’d be an impressive tale to share amongst my knights.”

Merlin rolled his eyes. “I’ll be back within the hour. Kilgharrah can certainly defend himself.”

Arthur gulped as the dragon turned to stare at him with its beady yellow eyes. “That I certainly can.”

…

“You’re leaving,” Morgana stated before hugging Merlin tightly, her dark curls almost smothering his face. He pulled back to smile at her sadly.

He really didn’t want to leave her; they’d never been separated before. He had lied to Arthur when he had told him she didn’t live in the castle, and so saying goodbye was all the more difficult.

“On Kilgharrah’s orders, I’m afraid. Destiny and all that jazz.”

She frowned. “At least you get to finally have an adventure.”

Morgana had been praying to the gods for her destiny to be revealed for years. Merlin was always more reluctant, taking a liking to the quiet lifestyle.

“If you met the prince, you wouldn’t be calling it an adventure,” Merlin promised, winking. “He wanted to take you back to his kingdom.”

Her green eyes flared in indignation. “As if I’d let him, the arse.”

“That’s what I said.” He grinned, imagining the prince being knocked to the floor by the strength of his sister’s blow and the priceless look that would follow. His smile quickly faded however when he noticed tears had begun welling in her eyes. He grasped her shoulders. “Hey, don’t worry, you’ll be fine here. Your destiny will come soon enough, I’m sure of it. Until then just keep practicing your magic.”

“I just hope it’s half as exciting as yours.”

“I’ll probably envy yours when it comes.”

“No doubt.” She smiled, tears slipping down her cheeks.

Then he kissed her forehead, eyelashes wet from his own tears, and was off to face his destiny.

She would be fine; Merlin knew she would be.

He couldn’t say the same for himself.

…

The ride to Camelot was as torturous for both Merlin and Arthur as they had predicted, full of insults and rude banter.

“How can _you_ possibly ride a dragon if you can’t even sit on a horse properly?”

“How can _you_ possibly be a prince if you’re such a prat?”

It went on and on without end for the entire journey to Camelot, retort after retort, and so it was lucky for their sake they had no companions. Otherwise they’d likely be killed in their sleep out of pure annoyance on the various rest periods they took.

…

Queen Igraine, to both Merlin and Arthur’s utter relief, agreed that as there was no princess, Arthur had successfully completed the task in saving someone who needed his aid, which was the prime idea of the task. Judging by her genuine smile, she seemed pleased there was no princess in need of assistance, improving Merlin’s opinion of her dramatically.

On the expedition to Camelot, Merlin had imagined her to be much like Arthur, demanding and arrogant, and was delighted to find that her temperament differed greatly from the spoiled prince.

Thankfully, making his job ten times easier, Igraine offered Merlin a place as an honoured guest, intrigued by his dragonlord heritage and why as a result he needed saving in the first place.

That evening during said feast, Merlin gained a permanent position in the royal household as Arthur’s magical bodyguard, when he froze an assassin who was attempting to shoot Arthur with a crossbow from behind one of the pillars.

All in all he had gotten off to a good start. Rather it was becoming Arthur’s friend that was the difficult part.

Arthur was the most insufferable idiot ever to walk the earth and Merlin despaired actually pretending he liked the asshole.

The vision of the kingdom burning was constantly behind his eyelids, however, which made it easier to be polite to the prince. Of course a few insults slipped here and there but the prince took them in stride, backfiring with some of his own.

It took Merlin a while to realise what they were engaged in was playful banter rather than an incessant argument. Worse still was when he realised that his use of the word prat when Arthur was being annoying had became a sign of affection.

Well it didn’t help when the prince did stupidly kind things like sneaking out to the lower town to give secret extra rations to the poor – Merlin had only been following him to ensure he didn’t terrorise any villages, it wasn’t like he actually cared about his safety or anything. Or when he taught a little peasant boy how to fight with a wooden sword after the child had asked to see his sword.

It was hard to believe the man in front of him now and the boy who had broke into his home intent on kidnapping his sister was in fact the same person, but it showed that once you got to know someone they weren’t all bad.

Arthur truly wasn’t all arrogance and idiocy. Underneath it all, he did truly care about people. It was only his determination to appear the perfect prince that kept such traits hidden.

Of course he was still an arse, but a bearable one.

What astonished Merlin most of all occurred during an afternoon archery session with Arthur. They’d had a bet on who could shoot the most bullseyes, each trying to impress each other with the various techniques they’d learned.

Then, what was meant to be a playful shove to the ground after Arthur had insulted his aim led to his entire body hovering over Arthur’s in the grass after Arthur had tripped him in retaliation. Their faces were so close he could spot the faint freckles on the bridge of Arthur’s nose, and his heart beat erratically in response. Most bizarre of all, he had a sudden desire to close the distance and kiss the prat.

What shocked him even further was when Arthur did exactly that, his eyes twinkling with mischief as he pressed his mouth against Merlin’s. Merlin let out a squeak of surprise and pulled back, eyes wide. 

_What was Arthur playing at?_

He took a quick glance at the castle and then back at Arthur's flushed face before deciding to fuck it all, leaning forward to deepen the kiss. The kiss was hungry, a competition almost as their mouths interlocked, and both were completely immensed in it. They were lucky no one happened to walk by for neither had any decency to show.

Arthur was the first to pull back, a silly grin on his face as he sat up. “Well you may be bad at archery but you’re certainly good at that.”

“If you keep kissing me, you may find out exactly what else I’m good at.” Merlin hinted.

“Oh, I’m sure I rival you in that area. Exactly how many people do you find to practice with in an abandoned castle?”

“We’ll see about that. I did leave it, and invite people in you know.”

A devilish thought occurred to him and he grinned, his eyes glowing golden as he pinned Arthur down with magical bonds.

Arthur was truly at his mercy now.

Arthur’s eyes darkened as Merlin leaned in. “For once, I’m happy to lose.”

…

To Merlin's utmost relief, the purge on magic never came. Although the land, and Arthur himself grieved when the queen passed on, Arthur did not blame magic as was prophesised. That which had intrigued him as a child, continued to fascinate him now as he saw Merlin’s lips shape the greatest of miracles and the most exquisite of sights. He also saw it in Morgana, who frequently came to visit Merlin, her destiny to deliver prophesises of the triple goddess, often requiring her presence in Camelot. It wasn’t long before she found a reason to stay permanently, taking a fancy to Gwaine, one of Arthur’s knights.

Everything that had come to pass was due to the massive scaly dragon which continued to reside in the now literally abandoned castle. In fact, he only left it to divulge more prophesies which no one would believe.

Arthur of course would take all the credit for it.


End file.
